Blood & Leather
by princessangelwings
Summary: written for XerikahX on lj. she wanted cam, blood and leather pants. i deliver. Sheppard join in and in later chapters will also be Whumped - SG1 Xover
1. Chapter 1

Blood and Leather

The call came through at about 1500 hours. Cameron had been planning an exciting evening, alone with a good DVD boxset. He'd deny it until the cows came home but he was rather fond of the ladies on Wisteria lane. The call was from an old buddy of his, whom he'd served with years ago and who now worked in a similar unit.

"Jeez, Shep! Not heard from you since I came for a visit!"

"Yeah, sorry about that, as you can imagine it's been pretty busy in Atlantis."

"I heard you got stuck with Wolsey- how's he treatin' ya?"

"Surprisingly, not too bad. I'm back here for a few days; do you wanna grab a beer and catch up?"

"Sure, you at Cheyenne?"

"Yep."

"Meet you there at 1900?"

"It's a date."

Sheppard and Cam went back a long way. They'd served together in Afghanistan when they'd both been Majors. There was always a healthy rivalry between them. They were both cocky as hell and damned sure who the better flyer was. Naturally, Cam said it was him. Predictably Shep claimed the title himself. After 15 years the jury was still out.

Once he'd had an invigorating shower, in which he destroyed the Shakin' Stevens song 'this old house', Cam stood in front of the mirror deciding what to wear. Cowboy jeans or cool black leather? It all came down to his mode of transport really. He decided upon the bike. Sleek and fast, it was sure to impress his old buddy. A smile played on his lips as he though about the pranks and foolhardy competition they used to have.

He slowly pulled his leather pants up, the super-tight fabric emphasizing his ass in just the right way. The cool material settling nicely into his curves. Next he pulled on an elephant grey t-shirt, with short sleeves and vertical ribbing which showed off his muscular chest and arms. Finally, Cam turned to leave his apartment, snatching his black leather jacket off the back of the door, and with keys in hand, sauntered towards the garage.

He straddled the bike, helmet in place, squashing his spiked hair, the leather pants stretched comfortably around him. Leisurely he pulled on his thick leather gloves, all the while thinking about past times with Shep. As he sped out of the underground garage, the setting sun shone brightly through clouds of purple and rosy pink. He decided to take the scenic route up and along the mountain trail, sure it took about 20mins longer, but it was damn pretty up there and the roads were amazing to ride. It wasn't often he indulged himself in a good fun bike ride, but talking with Shep had brought back old memories, old rivalries and a need for speed. The roads turns and bends were sometimes hard to take and Cam would have to go wide to avoid coming off. The wind whipped past him and he relished the feel on his face. Riding his bike always made he feel like a kid again.

He used to love the car ride to Church every Sunday. His grandma with her pretty blue hat and crisp white gloves, and him with a clean shirt and his arm sticking out the window as he tried to fly. It's little wonder Sheppard and cam got along so well. First time they met they exchanged stories about arms poking out of car windows and flimsy wings made of paper, feathers and a ton of glue.

The glorious sunset had made way for a dismal evening. The rain began in earnest and for the first time Cam wished he'd bought the car. He slowed, not wanting to kill himself, and took the corner at a demure 40kph. Leaning into the bend, leather pants almost scraping the tarmaced road, he thought of the look on Sheppard's face when he arrives at Cheyenne; wet, sweaty and grinning like a loon. As he came upon the next turn in the road he began to lean in to it, towards the left, the mountain looming above him covered with trees, he suddenly lost control of the bike. The treacherous road, being wet from the rain, was conspiring with the tyres to make him miss his drink with Shep.

The bike skidded to the right; Cam flew off to the left. His left leg, got caught under the bike, but as it sped away, it took part of his leather pants and skin along with it. He tumbled and bounced along the road at a frightening speed, his helmet slamming on the street, cracking down the middle. He landed painfully on hard ground, beside an overgrown bush.

Stunned as he was, he opened his eyes. A pained moan escaped his pert lips. Slowly he pushed himself up until he was sitting, leaning against the rough rock face. Lifting the remainder of his helmet up and off his head, he silently thanked God for small mercies; the helmet was smashed, his head was not. Placing his new lucky charm beside him, he looked mournfully at his wasted leather pants. They were just never going to be useful again.

His left leg had a huge gash running the length of his calf. The leather ripped, drenched with his blood. The rain was still splashing down, thinning his blood so that it was running in rivulets down the road. Trying to stem the bleeding, Cam removed his leather Jacket and then his grey t-shirt which he carefully pressed onto the wound. He could feel his warm blood soaking through the shirt and feel his pulse, as his artery spewed more and more of his precious blood out. If it continued at this rate he'd be dead within the hour.

Picking up his Jacket he searched the pockets for his phone. It was a little worse for wear but appeared to be whole. The screen was smashed, he couldn't see what he was doing, but he figured he might I well try and call himself an ambulance. He press in the three numbers and held the phone to his ear. It rang once and a pleasant sounding girl asked what emergency service he required.

"I need an ambulance please, I've just come of my bike…" She interrupted his explanation with an annoyed, "Hello? Is anyone there?"

"yes! I'm here, I need a damn ambulance!"

"Hello?"

"oh damn it, you can't hear me can you?" he hung up. He decided to change tactics and dialled Sheppard… he was fairly bright, surely he'd work out that something was wrong.

"Hey Cam, what's up?"

"Sheppard, if you can hear me…"

"Cam?"

"I'll take that as a no."

"Cam? What's wrong? Where are you? 'cause I'm dying for that beer!" he hung up and went back to tending his leg, hopeful that Sheppard would figure something out. He winced as he pressed harder on his gash in a vain attempt to stop the bleeding. The phone rang and he hurriedly tried to answer. Just as he'd hit the answer button, the phone slipped from his grasp, his hand was so wet with sticky, copper smelling blood. "Damn it!" the phone finally gave up the ghost and fell apart.

He sat there, the rain dripping down his naked chest, to pool in the creases in his skin made by leaning forward to apply pressure. He was shivering so violently that he was having trouble keeping his hands and leg in the same spot. The pulse he'd felt early, once strong and powerful, was now weak and fading. His hands had developed a slight blue tint. His brain was starting to get fuzzy and his vision had begun to grey, when a black 4 by 4 came screeching along the road.

The car pulled over next to him and the driver climbed out and ran to Cam. "Jeez, what the hell happened to you, Buddy!" Sheppard said as he began taking his own jacket off, to wrap around Cam's half naked frame.

"Bike, skidded." Cameron was having a real problem keeping his eyes open and his lips felt all rubbery. Sheppard quickly hooked an arm under Cam's and pulled them both to their feet. Immediately Cameron passed out. Acting quickly Sheppard picked his friend up in his arms and carried him to the car. John layed him on the back seat, pulled blankets across him and tied his belt around Cam's leg as a tourniquet. Launching himself into the driver's seat he sped away, breaking several laws as he did so.

Xxx

When Cam came to, he found himself in the infirmary with Sheppard's feet by his arm. Sheppard was engrossed in a comic book, his posture relaxed. "Hey."

Sheppard jumped up, looked monumentally confused for a moment, and then sat back down.

"God, you scared the life out of me! Twice in as many days, that's not good Cam!"

"Yeah, sorry about that… guess I'll be taking the car next time."

"Might be an idea. On the plus side, I now have a decent chance of beating you at pool since you'll be in a wheel chair" the look of panic that flashed over Cameron's face made Sheppard rethink his last statement. After a moment, the penny dropped.

"Oh no, no not like that – just for a while, you'll be walking around good as new in a few days."

"Phew. You had me scared for a minute there."

"Just call it payback."

Fin


	2. Chapter 2

Blood & Leather… Sheppard's turn!

Set not long after 'Remnants' but it could hardly be considered a tag, as I've not actually seen it yet. *cries*

There are spoilers but only the sort that *everyone* knows eg: Sheppard got whumped and we all know *who* by.

XXX Sheppard's POV XXX

Sheppard walked purposefully out the gates of the SGC. He'd just returned from Pegasus, and although he knew Cam was waiting for him, John found he just couldn't face his old buddy. When Cameron had being going through a bitch of a recovery, after his F302 crashed almost five years ago, Sheppard- the then Major; exiled to Antarctica- had risked yet another court marshal to visit his friend; to offer moral and occasionally physical support. John knew that Cam wanted to do the same for him in return. But just thinking about what had happened to him, made his skin crawl. He'd never felt so violated or more vulnerable in all his days. He'd decided to spend some time alone, getting his head sorted and working through his emotional shit. He was a very private person, so he knew Cameron would understand him not wanting to go straight out for a beer upon his return.

Ever since the Ancients had returned and kick him out of his home, John kept a small apartment in Colorado, not too far from Cam's place actually. It was rare that it was used, but it provided him with a base. Sure, you could say it was a waste of money to keep a place on when 95% of the time is was lying empty… but as he opened the stiff door with his key, he knew it was money well spent. His pad was nicely decorated, nothing girly, but well kept. There were blue chequered cushions on the sofa and a cactus slowly dying by the window. He drew back the heavy, brown curtains to let the light come bursting in and exhaled a breath he never even knew he'd been holding.

This place wasn't home, not like his beloved Atlantis, but it was a sanctuary for him. Sheppard pulled a chilled beer out of the fridge, opened it, took a long draft and leaned heavily against the counter-top. Not for the first time that day, he closed his weary eyes and watched the horrific images play out. With a rough shake of his head, John cursed and slammed his beer down, the bubbles fizzing so that beer overflowed the bottle and dripped onto his hand.

"Damn it!" he swore again and threw the offending bottle across the room, to smash in a rain pour of glass shards and chilled beer. John ran a hand through his hair, picked up his backpack from the wardrobe and began throwing the gear he would need haphazardly inside. He would go climbing. He'd prefer to go flying – not in his perfect jumper – but something a bit rough around the edges. Something that would *make* him feel alive. An osprey would be good. Regrettably he didn't have an osprey handy so rock climbing - freestyle- would just have to do.

Slinging his pack over his lean shoulders, Sheppard breezed out of the apartment and down to the car-lot where he kept a beat up old Volkswagen. It wasn't pretty, but it got you where you were going. In John's case, he was going to the old mountain trail; he could park up and spend the next few hours exhausting himself on the rock face. Good times.

As he felt the absolute *need* to feel, John had purposefully left his safety ropes at home. He was an accomplished climber, these cliffs were nothing compared to some of the places he'd scaled- including that one time on Atlantis; now that had been a buzz.

XXX (Cam's POV) XXX

Cameron was starting to get concerned. He'd heard rumours and read Sheppard's sparse mission report; Mitchell knew a succinct Shep was never a good sign. Unfortunately he'd been offworld when John had gated back…Teal'c said that he'd looked pale and withdrawn - again, never good signs with Sheppard. They had made arrangements for a guys' night out, Sheppard clearly needed to have a few beers, have some fun and maybe let it all out in the dead of night. Cam knew this, because Sheppard had done it for him.

Mitchell drove home, in the car this time, and stopped outside John's apartment, to see if his buddy was inside. He's searched the SGC until someone mentioned seeing Col Sheppard *walk* out of the gates. Now there's a man who's distracted; if he's walking 15miles to his place. Cameron fetched the spare key from the top of the window ledge and opened the door. He visits his buddy's place about once a month, just to check the cactus is still alive (barely) and that there's no sign of break-ins.

The broken glass on the floor shimmers and shines in the sunlight streaming in through the window. It took him a moment to realise the place hadn't been burgled; the owner caused the damage. "Oooh, that's not good!" he cringed. Ignoring the mess in the kitchen, Mitchell went to the wardrobe in the bedroom, where John kept his climbing gear.

"Oh for the love of…of…all things holy!"

Naturally, Shep had omitted his ropes. The damn fool that he was, going out climbing, while distraught without any safety ropes! What the hell! Cam snatched the ropes up from the floor and stormed out of the apartment block.

Cam was not entirely sure where Sheppard had gone, but when John was teaching him to climb, they'd always got to the old mountain trail. The rocks were easier there… so if you were going to be a moron and not use safety ropes, you might go there. Unless you were really suicidal. Mitchell hoped that John had the good sense to go where the rocks & cliff faces were relatively simple for an experienced climber. They might not be able to decide who the better flyer was, but there's no doubt that Sheppard was the natural climber. Cameron had always been a better swimmer though… old rivalries die hard, sometimes.

When Cameron had been ill, after his 302 crash and again last year, Sheppard had used climbing as an incentive to get better. He taught Cam to climb in a different way than the air force had. In the air force climbing is about survival… to Sheppard it offered freedom, not unlike that of flying. You still had the feeling that you were taking your life into your own hands… but it cost less and the views were always amazing. For John's sake he hoped he'd learned those lessons well enough. The mountain trail could be murderous to those who didn't know her. Cam was pretty well acquainted, having nearly died on the road below the cliffs about a year before. Sheppard had been the one to save him- wonders never cease, how friends can almost read each others minds when needed.

John's crappy Volkswagen was parked, unceremoniously at an angle on the road side. Cameron hurriedly called the SGC on his mobile,

"Sam? Hi, I might need a favour in a bit, could you hang on there until I call?"

"Sure, what this all about?"

"Hopefully nothing. Can you have a chopper ready to go too?"

"For nothing? You're gonna have to tell me more than that Cam!"

"I can't. It's private. A friend of mine may be in trouble… I'm not sure yet."

"You're talking about Sheppard aren't you?"

"You didn't hear it from me. The chopper?"

"No problem… and, good luck."

Throwing rope and a first aid kit in his backpack, Cameron began to climb.

more to come...


End file.
